Fragile Hearts
by sugarplumdreams
Summary: It was a great plan — infiltrate the enemy camp, take out a few flying monkeys, rid the world of the Wicked Witch, then call it a day. Well, it had been a great plan until he found himself being magically slammed into a wall and crumpling to the floor like nothing more than a poppet. (2013 Winter Hiatus fic, pre-Season 3B)


**A/N:** Inspired by a lovely, gut-wrenching set of fanart by Tumblr user: codependentrelationship :)) (url/post/75229023210) Written during the 2013 Winter Hiatus and based off all the fun specs that were circulating regarding the Wicked Witch's role for the last half of the season.

* * *

**Fragile Hearts**

It was a great plan — infiltrate the enemy camp, take out a few flying monkeys, rid the world of the Wicked Witch, then call it a day. Well, it _had_ been a great plan until he found himself being magically slammed into a wall and crumpling to the floor like nothing more than a poppet.

He groans in pain, every inch of his body protesting with each breath. He fights to stand but finds himself too winded and weak to get up. Stars dance behind his eyes, makes his stomach clench violently and he swears he's going to be sick. Suddenly, he gets dragged to his feet by an unseeable force, pushed back into the cold, hard stones of the castle walls. It's instinctual to buck against the magic, to growl and curse and _fight_ because he refuses to lose this — he _can't_ lose this, not when they're this bloody close!

"Oh dear," a voice coos disapprovingly. "This will never do."

He raises his gaze to hers then lifts his chin defiantly but remains silent. Amusement flashes across her face at the gesture and he holds his ground the longer her eyes bore into his.

"Hmm," she says after a long moment, slowly making her way towards him. "I wondered if our paths would ever cross. You reputation precedes you, Hook…and I have to say, it doesn't disappoint — ruthless, resourceful, tenacious…"

He bares his teeth when she stands grinning before him — green skin, ruby lips, copper hair…the wickedest of them all.

"You're the first to ever make it past so many of my defenses. I'm not sure whether to applaud you or to laugh at your stupidity," she says. "Though I must admit, it's quite admirable, really, how very close you got."

Her eyes travel over him, salaciously, and he feels disgusted, dirty.

"Quite admirable indeed," she croons, meeting his gaze once more. "And for the record…you are, my dear Captain, truly as handsome as they say."

She smirks and inches closer, eyes flickering down to his lips. Killian strains against her magic when she reaches out to run her fingers down his chest, lingering over his heart, before hooking onto the chain of the necklace he wears — it's a gesture Emma often does to pull him closer and he seethes at the witch. He'll have her green head, he swears it.

When she speaks again, her voice is soft, as if they are sharing a secret. "It's such a pity you came here to kill me."

"It's such a pity that you're nothing without your magic," he retorts. He realizes too late it's the wrong thing to say because her hand is suddenly around his throat, squeezing tightly and blocking his windpipe.

"Tell me, pirate," she hisses, the expression on her face feral. "Where is your Savior?"

His heart jumps into his throat, fear jolting down his spine, but his face remains devoid of emotion. "_Safe_," he manages to choke out.

She chuckles at that, her smile wide. "Will any of you ever learn? _No one_ is safe from me."

"You'll never touch her, she'll end you before you even come close." He resists the urge to spit in her face.

Her eyes light up. "Oh, my darling boy, why would _I_ ever need to get close…when I've got you to do that for me?"

He becomes aware of her intention half a second before her hand is in his chest and her fingers curl around his heart. The scream of protest dies on his lips, replaced simply by an agonizing cry as his body arches at the intrusion. The pain is searing, making his vision hazy around the edges, and by the _Gods_, he can barely _breathe_ and there's a tear inside of him and then…there's nothing.

There's nothing except the void and absolute internal stillness as the magic releases him and he collapses into a heap on the floor. He is stunned, empty, head lifting to stare at her in wide-eyed wonder.

"So noble, so honorable…so weakened by _love_."

"_No_," he whispers, unable to look away from the glowing, red heart — _his heart_ — in her hand. "_No!_"

He tries to stand again but she's squeezing his heart and the pain is back, stealing his breath and making his body coil with tension. He shouts, hand gripping at his chest as he presses his forehead into the ground. _By the Gods, make it stop_.

He's going to burst, he can feel it, knows she's going to take his life by crushing his heart in her hand. Emma's face pops into his mind — golden hair, sea foam eyes, smile so warm — and he wants to weep. For love of the Gods, he wants to weep but the tears don't come and as abruptly as the pain started, it suddenly just stops. He takes a gasping breath, fights to clear his head.

"You'll bring her to me," she says quietly. "You'll bring me the Savior."

He shakes his head, lifts it to stare defiantly at her. "_No._"

Her brow quirks and she smiles, holds his gaze intensely. "Very well, then." She lifts his heart near her mouth. "_Kill her_," she orders into it.

* * *

The beasts are _everywhere_, in _droves_, and every time she cuts one down there seems to be another to replace it. She pivots, channeling her annoyance and anger into her sword, cleanly decapitating one. She hates monkeys, would be glad if she never has to see another for the rest of her life.

"_Emma!_"

"I'm okay!" She calls over her shoulder, circling her wrist and preparing for her next victim.

"We have to pull back!"

_No._ She grits her teeth, falls to her knee as she blocks an overhead swing. _No!_

She kicks out, the way that her father taught her, and the monkey's legs get swept out from under him, but before she can scramble to her feet to run her weapon through him, an arrow zings by and hits home — straight to the heart.

"Hey!" she snaps, scowling as her eyes meet Robin when he jumps down from his perch in the tree.

He grasps her arm firmly, begins to tug her along as his men cover them. "Your parents will kill me if I let anything happen to you."

"We can't leave!" She digs her heels in, tries to rip her arm from his grasp. "Wait! Stop!"

He snarls, abruptly shoves her down to retrieve an arrow from his quiver. Before she can stand he's already hit another one of the Witch's abominations. His fingers tighten around her arm again. "No, we go _now_."

She fights him every step, her frustration and temper mounting the further into the protection of the woods they go. "Robin- will you just- can you wait- let me go! _Robin!_"

"_He's not here, Emma!" _he finally shouts, continuing to drag her along.

She bares her teeth, pushes roughly at him until she's free of him. "_Fuck you!_"

He sighs heavily and she can see the pity in his eyes and it makes her heart lodge into her throat as the tears begin to well — hot and painful.

"Emma-"

She's on the verge of a breakdown, has been since _he_ never returned from the bitch Witch's castle, but she can't admit it because if she does, she'll lose it. If she let's even a little of her composure crack, it'll open up the floodgates and all of the emotions she's been trying so desperately to stifle will come rushing to the surface and _she can't_. No, she can't afford to lose it — not now, not ever — so instead, she rips into him.

"Don't you _dare_ fucking order me around again like you did back there! I am the Goddamn _Savior_, Robin! _I'm_ the leader, _I _call the shots, _I-_"

He scoffs, rolls his eyes at her. "_Leader?_ What the bloody hell kind of leader goes off-"

"I had everything under control!" she snaps.

"_You were outnumbered!_"

"_I was-_"

He cuts her off abruptly with a wave of his hand a sharp shushing sound. She stills only because of the look on his face. Her head cants to the side questioningly as her brow furrows.

"What-"

"Stay here," he orders softly, reaching to pull another arrow from the quiver on his back. "And by the Gods, will you _please_ refrain from doing anything reckless?"

He begins to disappear in the forest and she swears she hears him mumbling something about 'her father's daughter' but she can't be sure. Either way, she rolls her eyes then keeps her ears open as she tightens her hold on her sword. She swallows thickly — Killian taught her that, to always be alert and prepared.

She feels it well up inside of her again, all of the fear and grief clawing to be released and she has to stand still and take a few deep breaths to steady herself. She's so attuned to her senses that at the sound of the faintest rustle behind her, she spins with the slice of her sword towards the noise. Metal clangs against metal as her weapon's trajectory is thwarted by another sword, but she holds her ground, her muscles singing under the weight of her opponent's blade.

She moves fast, pivoting out of the way to get her bearings, but he moves faster and before she can get a grip on herself to formulate her plan of attack, she's already being advanced on. She doesn't panic, she's been trained too well, but she's exhausted already from her previous encounter with the Witch's beasts and from trying not to breakdown so she doesn't know how much more she can actually take before her weakened body and mind simply gives out.

There's a dark blur in front of her, a dark moving blur and that's all she can focus on. She jumps out of the way as his blade comes down and barely misses being nicked. Her foot catches on something — a root, a rock, she doesn't know — but she loses her balance and falls to her back.

_Shit!_ Her defenses are down only for a moment, but a moment is all you ever need — Killian taught her that too — and she suddenly finds herself beneath her attacker, sword drawn in front of her, protecting as much as she can of her face while they both snarl and strain against each other. It's a familiar scenario, one that abruptly brings back memories of sword fights and lakes and magical beans once upon a time ago.

_Normally…I prefer to do other more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back…_

Then all of a sudden it dawns on her that blue eyes — as blue as the sea — stare back at her and her breath hisses out on a _whoosh_. She'd know those eyes anywhere.

"Hook," she breathes, gaze holding his.

He stills at his name on her lips, brows pinching in confusion as he continues to study her, then sits back away from her. She is stunned and her head reels.

"Hook," she repeats on a choked breath.

He shakes his head as if to clear it, then his eyes go dark again and it's pure instinct that has her rolling away half a second before his sword comes down again.

"Hook!" she cries, getting to her feet and holding one hand up in a gesture of peace. "Hook, it's me! What are you doing?"

He glowers at her, ignoring her, and she braces once more as their blades meet again. He's close, so _close _she can see his widened pupils and the thin blue ring of his irises, yet he's still so far away. The tears pool behind her eyes.

"_Hook_," she begs, her voice broken.

That does it, that one plea snaps him out of it and brings him back to her. "Em- Emma?" he whispers hoarsely.

They stay that way — swords drawn against each other, staring at each other — for a few heartbeats, the longest of her life, and suddenly his sword drops from his hand, clatteringly noisily to the ground.

"Yeah," she answers on sigh. "Yeah, it's me."

The relief comes fast, makes her whole body shake as she gives something between a laugh and a sob and releases her own sword to launch herself into his arms. The tears can't be staved off any longer but she doesn't _care_ because it's him and he's been gone too long and she just needs to feel him and breathe him in because it's been _too long_. Her face is buried into the crook of his neck — her favorite spot — as sobs wrack her body.

"Oh God," she whispers, hanging on to him tightly. "Oh _God_. Where the hell have you been? What the hell happened? I've been so worried and scared-" She hiccups and sniffles. "_Oh God. _It's okay…it's okay. You're here, you're home."

He feels so stiff, but she ignores it, thinking that it's just perhaps he's experiencing some mild PTSD, or maybe it's the shock of seeing her, of escaping the clutches of the Wicked Witch. It doesn't matter, they can fix it — they'll fix it together.

She feels his arms start to come around her and she can't help but sigh and relax — _finally. _His hand moves up her back — a normal, soothing gesture — and she holds on tighter, finding comfort in the familiarity of his embrace and the scent of sea and leather and _Killian_.

She is too distracted, her head too clouded by her emotions to anticipate the hand that abruptly closes around her throat, thumb pressing down on her windpipe. She bucks against him, gasping for breath as her hands grip his wrist and try to pull his hand away. He's too strong and she's too shocked.

"Hoo- Hook," she pleads, her mind racing. _What the hell was he doing?_ "_Hook!"_

He moves, slamming her into the nearest tree and pinning her there with his body as he squeezes tighter. The lack of oxygen sends panic into her system and she begins to thrash violently against him. It's only then that she notices how void and lifeless his eyes look and it frightens her to the core — she's never been frightened of him _ever_…not until this moment.

Her vision starts to blur around the edges, it's what causes her to dig deep inside of herself, to conjure her magic the way she has been practicing. She sends it to her hands, heating his flesh, then pulls air into her lungs when he releases her on a yelp and backs away. She coughs, chest painfully tight and heaving.

"What…the _hell_?" she cries, one of her hands reaching up to hold her abraded throat. She knows there'll be bruises later and it _hurts_.

She sees him moving from her, reaching down to grasp his dropped sword, and it's self-preservation that has her throwing her hands up to form an invisible shield of protection around herself before he can slice through her. His sword comes down on the magic, makes it spark and ripple where the blow is and everything inside of her aches as she watches him.

He's not her Killian, can't be, and oh _God_ does it hurt. He pauses to look at her, then his face twists, becomes almost feral as he charges at her. Her magic holds, but her heart doesn't. She's crying again, only this time in despair. _What had she done to him? What had that bitch done to him?_

"It's me," she tells him. "Hook, please! _Stop!_ What are you doing? It's _me!"_

He's beyond reason now, swiping at her with his weapon, growling in frustration over every missed blow. He gives up, discarding the sword only to begin pounding over the forcefield with hand and hook. She pushes with her magic and it sparks where his hook hits, sends him flying back six feet and straight into the trunk of another tree. He's abruptly knocked unconscious and Emma collapses to her knees, sobbing into her hands.

_Oh God_. It's too much, too much for one person to bear. She's going to have that woman's head, she swears it, she s going to have that vile creature's head mounted on the fucking wall of her castle for touching what was hers.

She crawls over towards Killian, hands shaking as she takes him into her arms and cradles him. She drops her forehead against his and starts to weep, feels the anguish grip around her heart and weigh heavily in her body. He always says that _she_ is his light, but it's not true, it's so very far from the truth because everything that is good, everything that is right about her…is _him_.

"Oh God, please," she begs. "_Please_. I don't know what she did to you, but please come back, please."

He groans, stirs a little and it's more instinctual than anything to press her mouth to his. She sends him everything inside of her — light and love and warmth — and when he wakes on a sharp inhalation of breath she meets his eyes and holds them steadily. They're bewildered for a moment and she can actually see the battle inside of him wage before his body goes lax and his expression softens.

"_Emma_," he whispers, but he says it with such reverence her breath hitches in her throat and she wants to cry again. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"You're one to talk," she snaps, but she's pulling him against her, hugging him tight. "What the hell happened? What did she do to you? You tried-" She chokes on the words, can't get them out, but she doesn't need to because he's already pushing her away then, already realizes what he had tried to do.

"You have to go," he tells her. He's hunched over, arm gripping around his middle as if trying to hold it together. "You have to leave _now_."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Emma, _please_, there's no time to explain, you just have to trust me, you have to-" His words cut off as he cries out abruptly, falling forward onto his forearms as he fights off whatever is inside of him. "_Emma, please!_"

_Like hell!_ She's at his side in an instant, hands cupping his suddenly sweat-damped face. "I won't leave you," she says stubbornly.

"Emma," he groans, unknowingly making her heart ache. "You don't understand. I don't want to hurt you-"

_Hurt her? He'd never hurt her, not intentionally. _"What the hell did she do to you?"

His hand grips hers where it rests on his shoulder, his expression is pained. "I have to tell you- you have to know before- I may not get the chance again- Emma, I love you-"

The words don't surprise her, neither does the answer of her heart. "Then _fight_ Goddamn it, stay with me and fight!" She's sick of crying, _sick_ of it, but she can't stop the steady flow of tears down her face. "You have to tell me what she did-"

"_She has my heart!_" he rages, baring his teeth at her. The look that comes and goes in his eyes is almost animalistic but she doesn't back away. "Emma, she's ordered me to kill you! You have to kill me before I hurt you-"

His eyes travel to the red marks on her neck and his face twists in agony before she can cover the deepening bruises with her hand. Suddenly it all makes sense, his violent behavior and the internal struggle she sees in his eyes, the way he slips away from her.

"You have to end me before I hurt you anymore than I already have," he tells her. "I'd rather die at your hands than hers, Emma-"

"_Fuck you_," she murmurs, her temper sparking abruptly at his stupidity.

"I- what?"

"You heard me, I said, '_Fuck. You._'" She shoves at him roughly, shakes her head defiantly, firmly. "You're an idiot if you think I'm just going to kill you!"

"Emma-"

"Don't '_Emma'_ me you son of a bitch! Do you know how much _shit _you put me through? Reading me like an open book on that beanstalk, flirting with me, being charming, leaving me in that jail cell like a Goddamn scorned ex-boyfriend?"

He blinks, stunned by her outburst. "You- you left me on the beanstalk," he answers lamely.

"_I am not finished!" _she shouts. "Do you know how much havoc you wreaked in my life? Getting hit by a car and breaking your stupid ribs, coming to New York when I was trying to protect your ass, getting under my skin?" She swats him again just for good measure. "Then you go and offer to help me save my son, you save my father, you gave Henry back _his_ father, you fucking let me _kiss you senseless_ then promise you're going to win my heart and think about me _every single day_ even though the curse separated us! You did that for a whole year!"

She grasps onto his coat, shakes him lightly. "How _dare_ you worm your way into my heart and make me fall in love with you then try to pull this crap! 'Emma kill me?' _Are you serious? _I can't live without you anymore and you expect me to kill you?"

"You- you love me?" he asks incredulously.

She sighs and gives up, sniffling as she touches her forehead to his. "Yes, you idiot pirate, _I love you_…the same way you love me — overwhelming and all-consuming and scary as fuck and _forever_ — and I'm not going to kill you, damn it!"

"But Emma-"

"You're not going to hurt me, you could never hurt me! I don't care if that bitch has your heart, because she doesn't Killian, not really, because…_I _do."

She shakes her head at his protest, silences him with another brush of her lips and uses her magic — her _love _— to heal and soothe and protect. The Witch had tried to take him away from her, tried to turn him against her, but the love and the bond between them was powerful enough to stave off her evil control — otherwise he wouldn't have been able to come back to Emma in the most important way, the only way she cared about.

She sinks into him, pulls him under with her, and surrounds them in bright light and golden warmth and healing love and when they surface he is calm — he is _him _again, she can tell by the sudden desperation with which he clings to her, by the apologies that spew profusely from his mouth.

"That should hold you over until we can get your actual heart back."

"What did you do?" he asks, hand caressing her face then moving to brush lightly over where he had tried to take her life earlier.

She can feel his regret and she soothes it away with another kiss, content just to hold him and be near him. "Protection spell."

He lifts his head, eyes boring into hers. "But how-"

"Because I willed it. Because I'm the product of True Love and my magic is stronger...because I'm the Savior...but mostly because I love you."

"And that's enough?" he smirks. "For you to love me and for me to love you?"

She knows he's teasing, knows that love will always be enough with them, but _God _has she missed that smile. "Try something new, pirate, it's called trust."

He laughs, pulls her closer still but she doesn't mind one bit. "Gods but I missed you, darling."

"Me too," she murmurs, brushing his hair back from his brow and stroking her finger over the scar on his cheek. "You pull something like that again and I swear to God I'll kill you then bring you back to life just so I can kill you again."

"We have an accord," he mumbles in agreement, bumping their noses together.

"I love you," she whispers.

He answers with a brief, firm kiss to her lips before, "I love you, Swan girl," and another smile. "Now, let's go get that bitch, shall we?"

_Fin_


End file.
